“Unfortunately, poverty stalks the artist like a wolf, its prey, and the artist embraces poverty like a lover.” So observes Will, the lead guitarist in a Seattle grunge band called One Hand Clapping. Author David Friedman tells this story of an ill-fated musical group in search of rock stardom, and tells it very well.
This book—loaded with wonderful turns of phrase—chronicles the journey of the five-man band and its search for popular acclaim. It examines the dysfunctional family-like relationship the young men share while memorably describing the drummer:
“He was a clumsy, awkward child in a man’s body.” The group plays seedy venue after venue before finally going on an ambitious tour of Northwest nightclubs in search of a lucrative recording deal. They want to be “discovered” in the worst way, and nothing—not van breakdowns, terrible sound technicians, or their deplorable living conditions in the Rat House—can stand in their way.
“We flourished in our incompetence, nurturing our strengths and hiding what we couldn’t accomplish.” Binge drinking, ingestion of everything from coke to mushrooms fuel the band’s quest, while ultimately dooming them to watch from the sidelines as other bands get the breaks that achingly elude them.
If you are a musician, or ever had dreams of becoming a rock star, this book will bring it all back for you. However, if you only have an appreciation for grunge music, played by One Hand Clapping’s more successful rivals Alice In Chains and Nirvana, you’ll get a rare and painstakingly accurate look into a musician’s mind and skills as he pursues his dream.
If you weren’t a fan of the music genre in the Nineties, then this book may not be for you. Still, it is a well-written story, with beautiful and thought-provoking passages on man’s relationship to a sometimes- indifferent God: “How many people struggle each day against fate and destiny? Why do they feel that the universe, in that instance, is conspiring against them? You can’t beat fortune’s wheel.”
And, in another insightful moment, Will observes: “The tires swished along in time to the tape that was playing, Eno’s Taking Tiger Mountain (By Strategy). It was all making sense, my life was falling into place as the psychedelic forced connections to the world ordinarily imperceptible.”
Will gamely fights his own demons every day to play his music, eschewing gainful employment and near-constant conflict with his band mates. Oh, but he does find love along the way, with his number one fan Paula. But even this bright spot can’t bring him the acclaim he seeks. He glories in his music nonetheless: “With my hand I was the voice of God. I was the master of causation. I could make the earth tremble with the sounds I produced. I accepted this responsibility somberly, but with joy.”
Play on, you aspiring garage bands! You just might make it some day. Get your copy by clicking here.
Originally published on Author Ingrid Hall’s blog.
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